It’s that time of year again: the holiday season. Some may rejoice where others mourn, making the holidays to be a decently tricky time.
Though naturally the days can be seen filled with a jolly plethora of gift exchanging, ugly sweaters and ho ho-ing santas, the holidays tend to carry a unique weight around our scarf-ridden necks. After all, what other time of year magnifies the importance of family and blessings more than the time we are amidst now?
For me there are indeed the two conflicting emotions: a sense of grave thankfulness and a sense of minor resentment. Right off the bat, I can see the immense value and power of decision-making. Over time I have been weary, while entering the holiday season, of how deep I allow my sulking to sink and how fervent I am to let any rejoicing take place. And so, in the midst of my gloom, the decision to say ‘things are well’ is a hard one, but a worthy one.
Before anything that commendable took place, it is necessary to note that anything family-related is a love/hate situation steering towards the tough love rather. Family for me has simply been an entity of people who I simply gather near during landmark holidays and occasions just because of:
- a) priority
- b) expectations and or
- c) tradition.
But 2011 brought many changes for me; Many family members were either off living far away, detached relationally, or, to simply put it, passed away. But before I could even start to routinely plot my way in digging a metaphorical hole in my bed to crawl into until the New Year (or even early February this season), I heard a buzz that rattled my mechanical pencils on my desk. It was a text notifying me my friendship had not gone unnoticed and was appreciated. As I read this text with great surprise and even greater delight, I backed away from my bed and meditated on what words were before me and what message they were trying to communicate. “Thanks for being my family,” my heart contended to acknowledge.
Family is important, and everyone’s looks different so it gets difficult at times (especially during the holidays) to distinguish our role as a member of the family—or in my newest case, a friend in a friendship. But ever since that text, I’ve been able to reconsider my “family” and how I in fact have a big one—my friends. There are many and I considered myself full when I think of who I have in my life. Friendship recently becoming a crucial part of my family tree has consequently inspired new traditions. Nothing is the way we fantasize, or do we long for it to be. Sometimes there is no desired “fun kids table” to sit at, nor a perfect turkey to devour. There aren’t a dozen uncles and aunts over at your cinnamon-scented home for the holidays, and that is okay because, simply, we must decide it is. But what there is are traditions waiting to be made. A simple gathering of friends over a meal takes little work and great love for the Creator in order to breathe life into the metaphorical statement of, “this is my family, and so I will spend the holidays with them.” And this by the grace of God, I’ve successfully implemented during this what feels like an extra hard season. I highly encourage this to anyone who finds him or herself tethered to a sense of loneliness during these times.
Once these decisions were made and actions were executed my reality thrived and I easily became less “victim-like” and more victorious. It sometimes just takes a little creativity and perspective to establish moments that don’t make us blue. I’ve learned there is no sense of dwelling on what we don’t have when what we do, has us completely and entirely for His good. And I’m also learning that family is indeed d) the people who text you before you descend into a dark duvet.
